


these little moments

by impravidus



Series: Parkner Meets Miraculous Ladybug Tropes [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Banter, Engagement, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Humor, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Precious Peter Parker, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus
Summary: “Hey Laddie?”“Yeah?”“Have you ever thought about getting married?”The magenta suited man chuckled. “Sorry to break it to you, Webs, but I am a taken man.”
Relationships: Harley Keener & Flash Thompson, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: Parkner Meets Miraculous Ladybug Tropes [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705516
Comments: 32
Kudos: 498
Collections: Peter Parker





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey Laddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever thought about getting married?”

The magenta suited man chuckled. “Sorry to break it to you, Webs, but I am a taken man.”

Spider-Man smiled and shook his head. “I mean with him. Do you think that far in the future?”

He shrugged as he leaned his weight on his arms, legs dangling over the skyscraper they perched atop. “It’s hard not to. I mean, spending my life with the guy that I’m head over heels for? That’s a dream come true.”

Spider-Man let out a tired breath. “I know what you mean. I… I think it’s gonna happen soon, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”

Iron Lad turned to face him. “Are you not ready?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m ready. I just… there’s so many things I haven’t thought about. I mean, when I was younger, I used to… okay, you have to promise to not laugh.”

“Oh, now I’m very curious,” Iron Lad leaned in, a smirk evident in his voice even if he couldn’t see it behind the mask.

“I’m serious, Laddie! You can’t laugh. This is some deep, mushy, sensitive, raw and emotional heart stuff that I’ve never told anyone before!” Spider-Man exclaimed.

“Okay! Okay! I promise. No laughing,” Iron Lad said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“When I was younger, I used to plan my dream wedding. I still have my playlist of all the songs I wanted at the reception. I have a Pinterest of cake recipes and decorations and color schemes, but I don’t know if that’s what I even want.” 

He scooted closer to the red and blue hero. “Well, what  _ do  _ you want?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“I don’t want a boring black tux. No black bow ties and shiny black shoes that crunch my toes together. No. I want to feel like a goddamn prince. I want a steampunk tuxedo with a tail that makes me look like I came straight out of a 2010 Panic! at the Disco music video.”

Amused, waved his hand. “What else?”

“I don’t want fondant on my cake. I don’t want a naked vanilla cake with minuscule amounts of pretty vanilla frosting. I want loads and loads and loads of chocolate frosting. And I want it to have color. White chocolate dyed all different colors and… and… edible flowers! And if people don’t want cake then I want there to be cream puffs and eclairs and a donut tower.”

“Go on.”

“I want… I want a fun reception. I don’t just want salads and steak. I want the stuff that I like. I want mini bacon covered hot dogs and artichoke dip and ravioli. Oh! And a chocolate fountain. And I want there to be a fun theme. Like… having a bunch of board games! Or maybe everyone wears ball gowns like an old timey gala. Or maybe both.”

“You could base the theme on the best hero in town? Magenta and purple are very elegant colors.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah right. As if there aren’t enough hokie superhero themed weddings.” His playful grin dissipated. “Besides, I want to keep my superhero life far,  _ far _ away from my civilian life. Last thing I need is to draw a supervillain to my wedding or something equally as mortifying.”

Iron Lad chuckled. “Yeah. I get that.”

“What about you, Laddie? What do you want?”

He gazed at the stars with a soft smile. “Definitely need songs from 2008-2012. That is the peak of pop music.. And bops from the 80s and 90s. Get some ABBA in there. I feel like everyone likes that.”

“That’s what my playlist is like,” Spider-Man said with a grin. 

“Obviously we need some cha-cha slide action as well. I’d be killing it on the dance floor with my husband.” He sighed dreamily. “Wow. Husband.” He shook his head, getting back on topic. “And we’d probably have to do some serious choreographing for our first dance. I love him to bits and pieces but he has two left feet. I can’t imagine him slow dancing with me for a full song  _ and  _ one with his parent.”

He laughed. “Well, that’s something I can relate to.”

“I’d probably want something outdoor. Churches feel so formal and stuffy, and I never felt like I belonged there. Plus, my boyfriend is Jewish and I wouldn’t want him to feel alienated at his own wedding. He doesn’t seem the traditional type. Plus, he loves fresh air. We’ve got a balcony outside our penthouse, and he just sits out there typing away on his laptop, sipping on sparkling lemonade. And we’re gonna need a good shirley temple. That man is such a shirley temple snob.”

“A man after my own heart,” Spider-Man joked.

“Hey! He’s mine, and I do  _ not  _ want competition from America’s dreamiest superhero.”

“C’mon. You’re pretty dreamy.”

“You can’t even see my body in this clunky thing!”

“I can imagine.”

They both laughed, chests fuzzy and shoulders light.

“It’s funny we’re talking about weddings,” Iron Lad said. “I was thinking it’s about time I propose to my boyfriend.”

Spider-Man’s eyes widened in excitement. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you. What kind of rings were you looking at?”

“Well, he does a lot with his hands at work, so I wouldn’t want it to get in the way too much, so he doesn’t have to take it off in the la… at work. So, I got him a gold band with a string of diamonds. Nothing that would cut… anything that he needs to wear for work.”

“I’m so happy for you. I can’t imagine anyone turning down an amazing guy like you.”

He smiled. “You know, I used to have this huge crush on you when we first started working together. I mean, you’re  _ Spider-Man.  _ It was hard not to have an unhealthy mix of hero worship and overall thirsting. I mean, c’mon, Webs, that suit leave nothing to the imagination.”

Spider-Man snorted.

“But, I got over it. I mean, can’t get over dat ass even if I wanted to, but now I’ve got a guy that I can say I know the name of.”

Spider-Man looked to a sad glint in his eyes. “Maybe one day I can tell you mine.”

“One day.”


	2. Chapter 2

Things that Harley Keener was good at? He’s good at deconstructing and reconstructing an engine by memory. He could probably do it blindfolded! (Actually, he can. In fact, he can do it blindfolded _and_ drunk _. _ ) He’s good at fighting aliens in a supersuit decorated like a My Little Pony stan’s wet dream. (He likes magenta. Sue him.) He’s good at running board meetings and handling PR and all the other crazy things being the CEO of Stark Industries included. He’s good at making Peter Parker smile and laugh.

Things Harley Keener couldn’t do? He couldn’t put pillowcases on straight no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t seem to figure out how to tie his own tie. (That’s what happens when your dad leaves you before you can learn how) He couldn’t play the violin (a horrible lesson that he had to learn the hard way after a grueling semester of sixth grade orchestra). But what he especially couldn’t figure out what how to propose to the love of his life.

So there he was, in his penthouse living room with his college roommate (who also was one of the very few people that knew his identity), pacing as he sipped at his red wine. 

“Okay, what about recreating our first date?” 

Eugene scoffed. “You mean seeing that horror film he hated, spilling soda all over his jeans, and leaving early to fight the giant Pomeranian that drowned that elementary school park in piss?”

Harley groaned. “You’re right. That idea’s off the list. What about something like a final gift.”

“It’s neither his birthday or Hanukkah.”

Harley scrolled through the online article pulled up on his phone, frustrated. “Oh! A scavenger hunt to all of the special places in our relationship!”

Eugene gave him a questioning look. “And how will he get around New York? It’d be hours of walking, subway rides, or driving in New York traffic for approximately fifteen minutes of actual memories.”

Harley collapsed onto the couch, and buried his face in his hands. “On one hand, I want to be over the top, you know? Buy skywriting and an orchestra. But that’s not very Peter. And I want to do something from the heart, but so far, my brain is overriding anything my heart can make.”

Eugene rolled his eyes. “Don’t think about it too hard. Just do something that’ll make him happy. Like a refill would make me.” He waved his empty glass in the air.

“That’s it! A romantic homemade dinner.”

Eugene clapped. “Finally! We are getting somewhere.” He shoved his glass into Harley’s hands. “Now, refill.”   
  


.-~*~-.

Harley Keener may be a fantastic cook, but he was also a crippling procrastinator, especially when he had lots of work on his hands. He had meant to leave the office early to get started on dinner before Peter got back from the labs, but he got caught up in a press conference and an international video chat with the CEO of Hanazuki Corporations and a mountain of paperwork and he realized that he had to fly home if he wanted to get all the flavors of the bolognese bubbling. 

So there he was, sweating in his suit from work under his Iron Lad suit because he has yet to deal with maintenance on the internal AC, praying that he would get home before Peter. He thanked the Gods above when he received a text from said boyfriend letting him know that he would be running late after what he explained to be a “gnarly lab explosion.”

After the texas toast was in the oven, the pasta was boiling, and the sauce was simmering away, he hung fairy lights across the ceiling and walls with command hooks, setting the table with a tablecloth and the good plates, and prepped the candles. Finally, he felt confident that everything was perfect. he cooked the recipes perfectly, and Peter’s favorite boston creme pie (made very last minute) was chilling in the fridge, and he hadn’t found the extra stash of his favorite sparkling lemonade he was hiding under the arugula. He got into a nice (not sweaty) suit and waited eagerly for Peter to come home.

When he heard the doorknob rustle as he struggled to get his keys in the door, he shot up from the couch.

“Ugh, you would not believe the day I’ve ha… what’s all this?”

He grinned a cheeky grin. “I just wanted to make a nice dinner for my amazing boyfriend who works very hard.” He took his messenger bag and set it on the island.

“What is that delicious smell?”

“That would be meat sauce and garlic bread.”

“Oh, if I weren’t so starving, I might just use this mouth for something else.” He wafted the scent with his hand. “However, this mouth will only be doing one thing, and that is eating too much garlic bread and pasta.”

“Come, sit down. I’ll get you some Frizzante.” As he nervously rustled through the wine fridge, Peter sat at the table, hoping what he believed tonight would be was true. “So, what happened today?”

“Well, it started with a grueling and hyperconcentrated eight hours on my compound I’ve been synthesizing to reduce factory GHG emissions, and only when I passed out on the floor of my lab did I realize that I skipped lunch and my blood sugar was dangerously low. Luckily, one of the lab liaisons had a question from the biomedical department asking about my input on our main project, and they took me down to the Medbay. One IV later, I realized I had to take it easy for the rest of the day, so I went down to the interns labs to see if I could give any feedback and wisdom. However, in the excitement of my arrival, one of the interns who was neutralizing a chemical agent accidentally dunked a beaker full of Potassium permanganate into a tub of alcohol, and well…” He mimicked an explosion with his hands with a lude imitation of a boom. “Anyways. It’s been a very long day and I really need some garlic bread in my mouth like right now so please please please can we eat?”

Harley chuckled. “Yes. We can eat.”

After sharing some laughs and eating until they were close to bursting, Harley got up to grab the final part of their meal.

“Shut the fuck up. You did not get my favorite boston creme pie.”

“I did not. I made it.”

Almost bouncing with glee, he took a spoonful of the decadent dish and moaned in delight. “I can die happy right now.”

Nervously, Harley reached in his pocket. “Well… not yet.” He took a long shaky breath. “Peter, when we met on that Minecraft server… wait, shit, that’s not how I want to start. Okay, I know that I didn’t have the best first impression when I used my mod powers to bombard you with potions. No, wait, I’ll just start with how I feel.” He took another deep breath. “Peter, when I look at you, I see the strongest, most beautiful man in my world. You work a full time job, you create new and innovative answers to the world’s biggest problems, you are a boss and a leader, yet you never stop trying to learn and be better. You give me another reason to push through my day and be the best person I can be and are the thing I look forward to seeing everytime I wake up and everytime I come home. You make me take risks and make me try foods I’ve never had and listen to music I never thought I’d like and have helped me become the man I never thought I’d ever be. You are my everyday, and I want you to be my future. Peter Benjamin Parker, will you…”

Suddenly, a swarm of robot bees swarmed through the windows of the apartment, shooting lasers through their newly upholstered couch.

“Oh, come on!”


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, Laddie.” Spider-Man sat next to the multichrome hero, and envelope in his gloved hand. “So, as you know, I’m engaged.”

“To the second luckiest guy ever for having a guy like you?” 

He smiled as his cheeks tinted pink. “Second?”

“Well, I’m the luckiest.”

“He’s a lucky guy to have you too, Laddie.” He took a shaky breath. “So, anyways, I was hoping you could come?”

He furrowed his brows. “How would I be able to come without me finding out your identity? 

“I mean… what’s wrong with that?” 

Surprised, he cracked his neck turning to look at him so fast. “You want to share identities? Now?”

He shrugged. “I just… feel like it has been long enough. When we started, we were still kids, you know? We didn’t know how to protect ourselves and our families. But we’re older and we’ve got a whole team of Young Avengers in training, and we’ve both got lives outside of this now. I mean, we aren’t patrolling every night and we are only called out for the big fights and I… I trust you. I trust you so damn much and I think that if we don’t tell each other, we might never get around to it. You don’t have to tell me yours if you don’t want to. You can just pretend to be a friend of my fiance’s.” He fiddled with the envelope as he saw him contemplating the decision. “Listen, Laddie. You can open it later and decide if you want to come or you can throw it away and I’ll drop it. Just RSVP yes or no by May 13.” He handed him the envelope. “I should probably head home now. I’ll see you later.”

Harley didn’t know how long he was staring at the envelope as he sat with his back against the couch in his living room. Peter was asleep in the bedroom, and he couldn’t quite find it in himself to get over the insomnia.

He didn’t know what to do. On one hand, he had wanted to know who Spider-Man was for years. On the other hand, he thought it would be… different? Them disengaging their suits in front of each other in a big emotional mutual moment. Not… reading his name on a piece of paper. 

But, he obviously felt that reading his name was the right choice.

Maybe he was afraid of seeing his reaction. Right? It had been so long. What if he cried or something. Not that he would cry. Probably.

How was he going to be able to tell which one was Spider-Man? There’s two names on a wedding invitation. Would he have to wait even longer to ask him in person?

It’s not like it’s that much information anyways. It was just a name. It’s not like they knew each other, right? It was just a name. 

Okay. He just had to open the envelope and…

But what if he knew him? What if it’s someone from university? Or someone he’s met at SI? He could be anyone. 

_ Just open it, Keener. _

He ran his thumb over the flap and ripped it open.  _ Oh, that’s funny. This is the same design that Peter and IiiIIiiIiii… oh shit. Oh  _ shit.  _ And he… but he… _

“Oh my god,” Harley whispered screamed to himself. “Oh my  _ God! _ ”  _ I’m going to marry Spider-Man. Peter is Spider-Man.  _ “Oh my GOD.”

The bedroom opened as Peter sleepily walked out, rubbing his eyes as he yawned.

“Harley, what are you doing up this late?”

His eyes widened as he hid the invitation. “Sorry, I just, I was… I was… uh…”

He sighed. “Come to bed, my love. Worry about whatever you’re worried about in the morning.” He gave him a tender kiss and grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

The next day, Harley called Spider-Man… Peter… (ugh, so confusing) to the top of Stark Tower, and he sat on the edge, nervously awaiting his fiance to arrive, knee bouncing on the cement.

“Hey, Laddie. You alright?” Peter asked as he swung to sit next to him.

“I don’t think I can make it to your wedding.”

His smile faded. “Oh. Okay. I understand. I mean, I get that it’s just too dangerous…”

His eyes widened. “Oh, not because I don’t want to reveal identities. I do. I mean, I know yours now, obviously, since I read the invitation. I just… I’m getting married that day.”

The eyes on the Spider-Man suit went big. “Oh. What a coincidence. Well, I’m sorry I’ll be missing yours.”

“I hope you don’t,” Harley mumbled.

“What was that?”

He looked up, not realizing he had let that slip. “I, uh… I’ve gotta ask, which one are you? Harley Keener or Peter Parker?”

Peter paused. “Right. That must’ve been confusing. I’m Peter Parker.”

Harley nodded. “So, you and Harley Keener, then? CEO of Stark Industries.”

He smiled a goofy grin thinking about his soon to be husband. “Yeah. He’s… he’s just wow. We met on my old childhood best friend turned high school bully’s Minecraft server, which is such a long story that I don’t think I could get into it right now. He’s got a PhD in mechanical engineering, but he handles all the crazy business stuff like you wouldn’t believe. He’s organized and assertive and confident and so damn intelligent, and yet he’s also kind and sensitive and always advocates for the little guy. He thinks like me. Like us. Looking out for the little guy. He doesn’t go much into what he does at work because he hates to drone about that kind of stuff to me, especially when he’d much rather be talking about anything else, but I can see how much his work consumes his life sometimes. But he’s… he’s so good at it, and he’s a great man. He’s an amazing man, and I’m so lucky, and I… oh gosh, sorry, I’m rambling.” He looked to him, his expression unreadable behind the mask. “Laddie?”

“I want to tell you my identity.”

Taken aback, he blurted out, “right now?”

“Right now.” Peter chuckled, more out of surprise than anything. “And I was hoping you could disengage your mask too. So we can see each other without our masks for the, uh, the first time. 

He smiled. “Count of three?”

“Count of three,” Harley parroted.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three.”

There was a mechanical whir as the nanobots disassembled, but Peter’s eyes went wide as he saw the face mask click open.

“Harley?” he gawked, flabbergasted.

“Hi, Darlin’. Looks like we’ve both been a little blind.”

Peter stumbled to his finance, placing gloved hands on his cheeks and pressed his lips, savoring the feeling of Harley’s warm, chapped lips. “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to join a Parkner Discord, click [here!](https://discord.gg/vztSVpg)

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to chat, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


End file.
